


The More Things Change...

by Evenmoor



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenmoor/pseuds/Evenmoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always fun to imagine what familiar characters would be like if born in a different setting.</p>
<p>Of course, the more things change, the more they stay the same....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Masterharper Menolly first came across the old hide buried deep in the archives, it almost crumbled under even her delicate touch. All but the first few words were illegible, but what words they were!

She showed it to her husband, Master Harper Sebell, who declared that she should use AIVAS's scanners to restore the writing on the hide. The artificial intelligence might be dead, but the equipment it left behind still worked. 

Packing the hide carefully, she took a quick dragon ride to Landing.

When the first page printed out, she could barely contain her glee. It was indeed what she thought it was, against all odds, a very particular long-lost manuscript.

Her fingers trembled a bit as her eyes ran across the fine, graceful text that flourished across the paper.

_A Remembrance, as related by John of Fort Weyr_

_As true to life as any words can be, in memory of the times we shared: this is for you._


	2. Mycroft

Masterharper Mycroft was something of an enigma to the other members of his craft - which was saying something, for a Harper. 

Some thought he worked in Archives, others were under the impression he was on the drum heights, and yet others believed he spent his time composing those lengthy arias no one liked to listen to at Gathers. The one thing they could agree on was that Masterharper Mycroft rarely, if ever, left his particular haunts at the Harper Hall. 

All of them, of course, were right. And completely wrong at the same time. There might well be a Master Harper whose labored away down the hall, keeping the Lords and Weyrleaders happy and placated, but it was Masterharper Mycroft who read and filed all the correspondence from the journeymen and masters scattered across Pern. 

Mycroft, who knew countless secrets, who sent out messages and information and orders disguised by music. 

Mycroft, who was so private that no one even knew how he came to have a firelizard, a queen called Anthea, her hide a burnished gold so dark it seemed bronze, always aloofly perched on his shoulder or somewhere nearby and seemingly ignoring everything and everyone around her.

Mycroft, who saw all the pieces on the board and knew exactly which to move at any given time. 

No one knew about his private concerns, either. They would have been very much surprised to discover that he had a younger brother named Sherlock, who spent his time watching people and discerning their secrets. Sherlock didn’t do this for Mycroft, oh, no. He did it to relieve his own boredom. Somehow, he’d managed to worm his way into Fort Weyr and was lurking about the Lower Caverns there, no doubt alienating everyone he met. 

The only man who seemed to keep Sherlock’s attention for any length of time was a Fort Hold Guardsman, a fellow of limited ambition and intelligence who nonetheless had the wit to use Sherlock’s formidable mind to the pursuit of justice. 

Sherlock didn’t care about justice, of course. But crime… crime he found intriguing. 

Mycroft worried about Sherlock. Constantly.


End file.
